


Corey Taylor: The Sickness Within

by skysonfire



Series: Corey Taylor [3]
Category: Slipknot (Band), Stone Sour
Genre: Corey Todd Taylor, Devilish Midweek Divulgence, F/M, One Shot Collection, Smut with a Story, www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:38:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this piece features Corey Taylor. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Corey Taylor: The Sickness Within

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this piece features Corey Taylor. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!

I snaked my way through the bowels of the stadium like a parasite. My heart leaping in my chest, I wore a badge, too, just like them. Still, my role there didn’t speak to symbiosis; I wasn’t part of the team. No, I was there to test the host’s immunity, which would either submit to my infiltration, or reject me completely. 

The backstage passages were dimly lit with fading light fixtures. When I reached the hallway of many-doors, I slowed my pace, my boots squeaking along the laminate tile floor. The names on the doors hung on curling paper: Jim #4; Sid #0; Shawn #6. I came to a stop before the one labeled, #8, and as I tapped on the door, I wondered if he still got sick before shows, or if he just …

He opened the door more quickly than I had expected and I was overwhelmed with the sight of him —feverish and animalistic. His smooth face was flushed with color and his head freshly shaved. His black cargo pants were already peppered with dust and his branded work shirt hung open to reveal the vivid tattoos that canvassed his body. His feet were bare and his eyes blazed with seriousness that I had come to understand a long time ago. It was about the show; it was about becoming #8.

I had caught him in mid-transformation, and he looked for a moment like he didn’t know how to handle my presence there. I stepped over the threshold and as heavy riffs began pulsing through the ribs of the building, he slammed the door behind me and pushed me against the wall, his knee between my thighs to hold me in place.

“It’s like you knew I would come,” I said, a half-smile growing on my face.

He responded by biting hungrily across my collarbone while his fingers fought for my flesh. In response, I swept my hands under his shirt and encouraged it to the floor. I pushed him forcefully from me toward the large bathroom and pranced after him, relieving the buckles on my corset.

“I missed you,” he said; hints of desperation in his voice.

“So it would seem,” I responded, unbuttoning his pants and running my fingers along his pulsing grip. I dipped my hand under the fabric and it was all I could do to keep from smiling against his breathy and heated kisses. His fingers squeezed the small of my back and he lifted me onto the stone vanity top.

“God, I wanna fuck you so hard.” His voice was a growl, and I helped him to push my skirt to the floor. Only my dirty Doc Martin’s hugged my calves. Shrugging my hips forward, he pushed inside and I grabbed at the back of his neck with my one hand, the other, hooked through the loop of his pants to pull him even nearer. 

He pumped me hard with the angsty hunger that I craved. His force felt wild and his methodic thrusts built a heat in me that began to spread through my stomach and down my legs. I was so slick for him and my eyes rolled back as I begged audibly without words.

When his body began to shake, I took his face in my hands and devoured his rich mouth with my lips. He was so close — his defenses down, surrendering to my infiltration. This, my beautiful, frenzied host.


End file.
